


Once Again With Feeling

by maydayparade8123



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, That's it, but like, enjoy, there's flirting, this is a friendship fic mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydayparade8123/pseuds/maydayparade8123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth likes to think they were just two ships passing.</p>
<p>Except for, you know, the fact that they were on the same boat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Again With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to ♚[rach](http://stainedglasss.tumblr.com/)♚ and ♚[luna](http://lunaparr.tumblr.com/)♚ for being my beta’s!!! this is a friendship fic with a tiny smidgen of romance and flirting i hope you all enjoy!!! the title is from ♥ carried away by passion pit ♥ (this is the CRUISE AU!!) i’m going to post this early as an apology i hope you all had rad holidays!!!

;;;

As soon as she steps foot into the magnificent lobby, teeming with bright lights and kids looking around in wonder, she’s being applauded. Smiling, cruise ship employees greet her and tell her to have fun. She feels like a celebrity.

;;

The thing is, Annabeth didn’t want to go on the cruise.

For one, she's embarrassingly fearful of the ocean. Secondly, she has a strong aversion to people who never stop smiling. And thirdly, her dad had proclaimed that they needed a ‘father-daughter getaway’ where they could ‘bond and remove some of the distance that had accumulated between them.’ So, naturally, her dad drags her onto a Disney cruise—where everyone is constantly _smiling_. Annabeth almost feels sick. It’s not that she spites them, really. (But she does.)

Annabeth is generally a happy person, she's just not all that excitable. So, sure, she doesn't jump up and down and screech in joy when she opens gifts at Christmastime, but that doesn't mean she doesn't like them. Smiles don't gauge a person's happiness in the same way tears don't gauge a person's sadness. Annabeth just wishes she could get more people to understand that.

It takes fifteen minutes to find their way to their room. Annabeth yanks her suitcase through the door, partially annoyed due to the fact that her dad is placing and answering numerous phone calls before they leave the country. She checks her bag again for her ID and her passport, just to make sure, and promptly pulls the sliding door that opens to their small balcony.

The glass effectively cuts off the sound of her father's voice. It's not that Annabeth hates _him_ , but she does hate the fact that he's near constantly buried knee deep in work. The sound of the water lapping up against the sides of the enormous ship seems to quiet everything in her mind, though. She leans over the side to stare down at the concrete dock, then looks to her left and her right and—oh.

There's a boy a few balconies down from her who's leaning dangerously on the edge just as she is. She watches him look down at the water with a smile as he presses his hair against his face to keep it from flying in all directions. His hair is black and knotted horribly with slight waves, if Annabeth’s eyes don’t deceive her, and he has to be around her age. She can't see his eyes from this angle, but his jawline is defined and his shoulders slouch forward.

She watches as he shakes his head, as if laughing at the water. A second person joins him, a woman obscured from Annabeth's full view. She takes it as her cue to stop staring and make her way back inside the cabin.

Her dad is just hanging up the phone, and she clenches her jaw as he immediately begins keying a new number in. "Hey, Dad. I'm going to go find some coffee. Or tea, maybe. You want anything?"

"Hm? Yes, yes, that's fine," her father says, pressing the phone to his ear.

"So, coffee or tea? Something to eat?" Annabeth questions, her heart sinking slightly.

"Sure, sweetheart," he chirps with a tight smile.

"Right," she mutters, tapping her fingernails against the nearest surface. "Bye." It's a futile attempt, because her dad is already letting out a charming laugh and schmoozing whoever is on the other line.

Annabeth leaves the cabin with her key in the back pocket and ten dollars, if she remembers correctly. She asks someone in a pressed polo and a name tag with the Disney emblem where she can find a decent coffee. They send her on her way to a cafe two floors up, and Annabeth feels herself relaxing. She thinks it's ironic that she's more tense around her family than she is around complete and total strangers giving her glazed over smiles.

She buys herself a coffee. It has too much sugar, which is the general feel of her Disney cruise ship. Too many smiles, too many bright colors, too much happy, almost. She lets herself out onto the deck and watches the masses mulling around and exploring.

Eventually she pushes her way to the edge of the boat, gripping the railing. If she angles her face one way, she can see nothing but the sea for miles. If she turns, it's nothing but the city; Florida buildings stretching on for what seems like forever.

Annabeth looks down at the ocean and lets out a sigh. It's not that she doesn't appreciate her father _trying_ , it just feels like he's giving her the bare minimum rather than making a full effort. She knows he's not doing it intentionally, but he knows she hates the ocean. The unknown scares Annabeth beyond belief, and that's what so much of the dark water is: undefined.

"Hello, Miss, can I offer you a drink?"

Annabeth turns to see a woman with her hair pinned up. She spares a glance at her name tag. "Australia?"

The woman—Cecilia—laughs, and Annabeth notices that her smile isn't fake. It makes her shoulders feel lighter. "Yes ma'am! Lived there my whole life until I joined the cruiseline."

"Is it nice there?"

"Beautiful," Cecilia enthuses. "Quite a few scary animals though, if I do say so myself, but ya get used to it."

Annabeth smiles a little, peering down at the drink cart. "Um, I'll take a water, if that's alright."

"Fine by me!" The woman smiles hugely, but softens her expression a moment later. "Listen, if you're interested, there's a teen club on floor three. Called _Vibe_. Not sure if it's your thing, but it might be better than starin' at the water with sad eyes." Her tone is teasing; a manic little twinkle in her eye.

Annabeth feels herself grin involuntarily. "I'll check it out. Thanks."

Cecilia offers an encouraging smile before she bounces off to the next group, offering refreshments. Annabeth bites her lip and spares the ocean another glance before backing away from the railing.

;;

After the mostly self-explanatory safety assembly, her father wrings his hands and asks her what she would like to do.

"Explore," Annabeth answers with a shrug. "Look around, I guess.”

He nods and gestures for her to lead the way, but Annabeth sees the way he clenches his fist, like it’s searching for his phone. They go out onto the deck, only to hear an exuberant announcement about a “Sail Away Celebration!” (And _yes_ , Annabeth thinks, there must be an exclamation point after that title, since nobody seems to say it in a normal tone of voice.

Annabeth can hardly see over the huge gathering, but she can definitely hear the loud music and screeches of excited children. "We'll explore the inside first," she decides, giving the huge crowd a wide-eyed gaze. Her father nods in agreement—if there's anything she inherited from him, it's a fear of huge, loud crowds.

They walk around the main floor for a while, nodding to all of the employees who greet them with a stunning amount of zest. Most of the employees, Annabeth's noticed, are from unique places around the world—Greenland, London, Greece, Egypt. She's never seen so much diversity in one place.

"Having fun?" her father asks as she stops in front of an interactive map to get her bearings.

Annabeth laughs lightly. "Tons," she says drily.

He winces. "Annabeth, I—"

"Would it be alright if I explored on my own for a while? I'll be back for dinner."

She meets her father's eyes, challengingly. She's well aware that she's being rude, but it's safe to say she isn't in the most charitable of moods at the moment. He averts his eyes, and Annabeth allows herself a smidge of sympathy when his shoulders sink. "That's fine, Annabeth."

"Bye," is all she replies with, turning on her heel and walking down the nearest hallway. It has a movie theatre that's showing Tangled and a concession stand being manned by a strikingly pretty woman from India.

Annabeth walks around what must be the entire floor plan of the ship. She goes back to the lobby and stares up at the stunning, elegant chandeliers. Her eyes trail across her surroundings, smiling at all the Disney characters hidden subtly within the decorations.

Annabeth doesn't want to be on the cruise, perhaps, but she has to admit that the ship itself is beautifully built and intricate in a way that must have taken years upon years of planning. She can spot the signature outline of Mickey Mouse's face almost everywhere she looks, and it fills her with a childish, reminiscent feeling.

She scuffs at the floor with her shoes, finally letting herself look at the people around her. Half of them are in line to get pictures with the Disney statues dotting the lobby, and the other half are just like her—taking in what has to be a sensory overload. The smell of sweets drifts through the air; laughter and the soundtrack of The Lion King infiltrates her ears; warm, cozy air brushes at her skin. If she wasn't so full of passive-aggressive anger and spite, Annabeth would probably be enjoying herself.

"It's weird, isn't it?" someone says next to her, making Annabeth start.

She turns and sees a boy—no, _the_ boy from her time on the balcony. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he looks around the room with bright eyes that are a cross between green and blue, flickering between the two colors. He turns to Annabeth with a small, private smile and a raised eyebrow. "What is?" she manages.

"Having your childhood tossed at you like this," he answers with a laugh, and Annabeth likes the fact that his smile isn't glazed over. "I feel like I'm six."

Annabeth glances away and sets her eyes on a statue of Donald Duck. "You could say that again."

"I could," he agrees, his smile still present. "But you'd probably roll your eyes and walk away, unless I'm reading you incorrectly."

It takes her a moment to get his joke, but when she does, it evokes a begrudging smile. "You read me right."

He tips his head to the side, a few awry waves falling over his forehead. "I'm Percy."

"Annabeth," she responds, not taking her eyes off of him. He has a captivating presence, one that nearly overshadows the ship.

"Well, Annabeth, would you do me the honor of being my friend?"

Annabeth blinks at the candid statement, but soon after finds herself appreciating it. "I might."

"Might," Percy repeats, narrowing his eyes. "What's that mean?"

"Favorite Disney movie?" Annabeth questions, ignoring him.

He contemplates carefully, his brow furrowing. " _The Little Mermaid_ ," he decides, rolling his shoulders. "You?"

" _Atlantis: The Lost Empire_."

Percy frowns. "That's boring."

Annabeth scoffs. " _You're_ boring." She looks back to the growing line of people queueing up for a picture with the Mickey Mouse statue. "Sure," she finds herself saying, after a few seconds.

"Sure?"

"Sure. I'll be your friend."

Percy smiles, and Annabeth's starting to forget why she hates bright, constant grins so much.

;;

By the time it reaches 6:30 P.M.—she and her father’s time slot for dinner—Annabeth already thinks Percy is a great friend.

He’s showed her a 24-hour ice cream shop where you serve yourself. He’s introduced her to the giant screen on the main deck that plays movies at night after the pools close. He brought her to a small refreshments center to the right of the pool deck that has coffee and tea and any soda she could dream of—for free. He’s caught her elbow twice where she’s near-slipped on water.

After a mere three hours, Annabeth feels like she knows all there is to know about him. He’s open and honest, never holding back information when she asks for it. In some ways, she wishes she could be like him, but in other ways, she sees it’s potential danger. He speaks of his mother with such fondness that Annabeth finds herself smiling and he speaks of french fries like they’re his own personal god.

Annabeth almost finds herself wishing that she didn’t meet him on a cruise—a temporary, transient experience—as opposed to something more permanent. Somewhere in California.

He’s a Yankee, of all things, and Annabeth wonders why she didn’t hear it in his accent before. Percy laughs at everything and smiles at nothing—the very epitome of things she typically finds irritating, but for some reason it’s acceptable. If not something she quite enjoys.

They part with a promise to meet up later at the teen club and see if it’s worth revisiting, and Annabeth can’t help the small smile that etches across her face as soon as she turns her back on him.

;;

It doesn’t make any sense, but Annabeth thinks that’s what she likes about it, for once. She’s tired of things making sense—tired of the strict order and never ending planning on her part. As she sits down at her and her father’s table, gingerly picking up the fancy menu, Annabeth decides that the cruise will be her test experiment. She’ll try a different way of living and see how it treats her.

“How was exploring?” her dad asks, after they order their drinks.

Annabeth shrugs and sniffles a little. “It was fine.”

Her father nods at the bit of information, clearing his throat. “Meet anyone?” Her eyes narrow and snap up to meet his, and he instantly recoils. “I wasn’t _spying_!”

Annabeth sets her menu down and folds her hands over it. “I didn’t say you were, Dad.”

He frowns for a moment, then lets the corner of his mouth quirk up in a hesitant smile. “He’s good looking, Anna—”

“Oh my god,” she deadpans, picking up her menu once more. “It’s a four day cruise. I don’t even know his last name.”

“Well, I mean, stranger things have happened. I was sure your mother was the one twenty minutes after meeting her, so—”

“Dad,” Annabeth says, letting out a small laugh. “He’s cool, but I don’t think he’s necessarily my type. We’re friends. No worries.”

“Would you mind if I met him?”

She jolts, covering it up by tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. “I don’t see why you would want to.”

“Oh, nothing, he’s just right over there—”

Annabeth coughs loudly, giving her father a wide-eyed look. “You’re shouting, just a bit!” she whisper-yells.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so loud on this ship, I can hardly tell how loud I’m—”

“Are you ready to order?” a third voice joins in, making both Annabeth and her father start. “Why are we whispering?”

Letting out an airy laugh, Annabeth waves her hands to signal _nevermind_. “Yes! I’ll take the chicken. I can’t pronounce the rest of it, though, I’m sad to say.”

Their server smiles and nods to her father, her Ukrainian accent thick as she discusses the dinner choices with him. They’re eating in the restaurant called _The Enchanted Garden_ , and Annabeth finds herself being very much enchanted. Wincing a little, she tugs at her formal dress, sighing a bit. As luxurious as the restaurant was, it was proving to be a bit annoying that dinner required formal wear.

"He's noticed you," her father announces, folding his hands on the table.

"That's amazing," she replies, drawing a lopsided flower in the condensation on the side of her glass. She sniffles a little, trying for casual when she asks, "Did you explore a little?"

Her father reads her tone easily—because this is how they do things. Apologies are never outright said; both of them have too much pride, yet still not enough to sacrifice the small bit needed for a simple "I'm sorry." He shrugs, pressing his lips as his own apology.

Annabeth lets out a huge breath of air, because as much as she finds herself disliking her father's imminent absent-mindedness, she doesn't like fighting with him. "It's a pretty ship, isn't it?"

Her father smiles. "I keep having flashbacks to all the Disney movies I played for you as a kid."

Annabeth looks up, and is shocked to find her dad's gaze on her. Usually it's locked on a stack of paperwork or a glowing cell phone screen. She smiles softly, but their waitress returns to refill their drinks before she can reply. Following behind her is their second server, a man called Gustavo who has the broad shoulders and beefy arms needed to carry the heavier dishes.

The food is gourmet and so fancy that Annabeth almost feels like taking pictures of it rather than shoveling it into her mouth. She hums appreciatively as she eats, and laughs when her dad says, "Jesus _Christ_ , did they put drugs in this?"

By the time dinner is over with, Annabeth has a soft smile on her face that doesn't seem to be disappearing any time soon. "I'm having fun, Dad," she tells him, just as their pushing their chairs in. Annabeth pats his shoulder, albeit awkwardly, and grins.

He positively _beams_ at that, nodding enthusiastically. "Me as well."

Just as she's opening her mouth to reply, a shoulder knocks into hers. She reaches out a hand to steady the person, but drops it when she recognizes the green eyes. "Ouch," she says with a scowl.

"You're fine," Percy dismisses with an eyeroll. They've stopped just in front of a Mickey Mouse fountain that's glowing a soft green, gentle spurts of water shooting out. Percy redirects his gaze to her father, just as a woman who must be his mother wanders up to his side. "Hello, sir. I'm Percy."

Her father smiles gently and nods. "Nice to meet you, son. You can call me Frederick, if you'd like."

Annabeth raises a brow at that—usually, her dad introduces himself with a formal _Mr. Chase_. She smiles at the woman. "I'm guessing you’re the mother Percy's so incredibly fond of?"

The woman gives a vibrant, homely smile. "Sally, please. And I'd hope so! And you're Annabeth?"

"I am," she affirms, the short conversation winding down. It occurs to Annabeth then that she's not known Percy for more than a few hours, and she's already met his favorite person in the world—his mother. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

"We could say the same," Percy and his mother say in unison. Sally shoves his shoulder and ruffles his hair, and Annabeth has to bite her cheek to hold back the _awww_ threatening to escape her. "Be seeing you," Percy continues, tipping an imaginary hat at Annabeth before directing his mother away with a tap to her shoulder.

Annabeth blinks twice before she starts walking as well, her father following. "He's charming," her father mentions, falling just short of casual. "Very polite."

"Dad. Four day cruise," she deadpans with a sigh. "Now, do you want strawberry ice cream or do I have to go alone?"

;;

The teen club _blows_.

Okay, so maybe that's not the best choice of words. Annabeth's point is that it's not her typical scene. She's been there for ten minutes, and all that's happened is some peppy employee is tossing a ball around a circle she'd urged the teens to make. It's all incredibly forced and uncomfortable, judging by all the pained looks on the various faces around her. "Come on!" the worker shouts with a grin. "I've seen grandmother's with faster reflexes!"

"Sorry, excuse me, yeah—sorry, man, I'm just—hi!" Percy greets, after he's successfully pushed everyone out of the way so he can stand next to Annabeth. It's nearing half past nine, and they're _still_ tossing around a foam red ball. Percy seems to read her expression, glancing around with a small laugh. "Oh, _God_."

"Yeah, me too," she answers, flinching as she just barely manages to catch the stupid ball. She passively hands it over to the girl on her left, getting a just-barely-patient look from the excitable woman directing the game.

"Alright!" she decides, as soon as a kid in all black let's the ball drop to the floor, without any intention of picking it up. "Let's do some Ice Breakers!"

"Oh, _God_ ," Percy says again, making Annabeth snort quietly.

"My name is Mina!" she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. "My partner here's name is Sydney."

Sydney takes over the mic then, with a loud and animated Australian accent. "I know, right? My parents genuinely named me after the city I lived in." She gets a few chuckles for her trouble, but mostly everyone stays unamused. "Alright, get yourself into groups of seven"—she pauses, her eyes sweeping the room—"or better yet, ten. Then introduce yourselves with your name and your age, and an interesting fact about yourself if ya will."

Percy shoves his hands into his pockets and flops down on the couch a few steps ahead of him. A group of people immediately flock to him, gathering around like he'd sent out a signal, and Annabeth thinks she understands. Percy smiles like he's got a secret, but he's achingly normal in a way that almost makes you jealous; he’s the kind of person who has a magnetic pull, but in an entirely accidental way. He smiles politely at everyone, patting the couch next to him. "Join me, Annabeth." She does, but not without an eye roll. "Uh, I'll start. Percy Jackson"— _Jackson_ , Annabeth repeats inwardly, committing it to memory—"and I'm sixteen. Seventeen in a month." He pauses to grin proudly. "Uh, I'm from New York, as you can probably hear in my accent. I've heard it's obnoxious." He sends Annabeth a sideways look, and she smiles serenely. "Interesting fact... Um, I... I'm Greek. Which is cool, I guess."

"Riveting," Annabeth comments, ignoring his elbow when it jabs into her side. "I'm Annabeth Chase. Sixteen. From California. My interesting fact is that I've seen the Parthenon. The real one. In Greece."

There's a general appreciative hum from the circle, and Annabeth smiles smugly. The girl next to her raises her chin. "I'm Reyna, I'm 17, and I'm from Rome." She pauses, shrugging. "Georgia. Rome, Georgia." One boy giggles at this, and Annabeth notes that he _must_ be one of the younger kids here with his cheeks flushed from excitement. "An interesting fact is that I once lived on an island. A civilized one, but an island nonetheless."

They make their way around the circle, Annabeth's thoughts confirmed when the giggly boy announces himself as 14. Most people's interesting facts are just that—intriguing. There's one boy from Vancouver and a girl from Brazil, but other than that, everyone's from the United States. One girl sheepishly announces that she's just from Orlando, Florida—not far from where the ship was docked.

They've just finished everyone in their ten person group when a high-pitched, happy voice speaks up. "Let's try this: If you're a Harry Potter fan, let's see you in the corner. If you're more of a Twilight gal or gent, stay right here in the middle. And if you're into the Hunger Games, go right over there." She gestures to each section of the room, respectively.

Percy and herself both stand from the couch and pause for a moment, deliberating. Then, in unison, they move around the huge couch and take three steps towards the refreshments canteen to be in the realm of Hunger Games fans. "Well, look at that," he says with a grin. "Fancy seeing you here."

Annabeth can't contain a short bark of laughter. "Shut up."

"Looks like everyone's a classic Harry Potter fan," Sydney announces, nodding in approval. "Let's see... Music! All R&B and pop, over in that corner. If you like country music, seat yourselves on the couch. And if you like some good rock or punk, gather 'round this post, right here." She taps a tall pole that goes right through the ceiling. "And if you like none of the above, you can come stand by me."

Annabeth pauses, shuffling her feet before she wanders over to Sydney. The Australian woman smiles, the same manic smile Annabeth had seen on the other Australian worker. She wonders if all Australians have that excitement about them. "Well, what do you listen to, then, love?"

"Most everything," Annabeth admits. "But mostly classical, or easy listening type things. I usually only listen to music when I study."

"I'm sure that's entirely more often than necessary," Percy interjects, nudging her shoulder with a grin.

Sydney smiles. "And what's your choice genre?"

Percy places a hand over his heart. "I pledge allegiance to indie rock." Annabeth ducks her head with a small smile. "Tell me, Annabeth, do you know the Arctic Monkeys?"

"Depends," Annabeth says, "do you _wanna_ know?"

Percy grins. “Well, I'm impressed."

"Like that takes much," Annabeth retorts. "You seemed pretty excited when that guy said his favorite color was blue."

Percy opens his mouth to reply, but Mina starts shouting before he can. "Look at all these teenage punk rockers! Tell me some of your favorite bands!"

"Pierce the Veil," a bored girl calls out. "Bring Me the Horizon."

"Mayday Parade," someone else mentions. "A Day to Remember, uh... All Time Low."

"All Time Low!" a tall girl agrees. "They're my favorite band!"

"My Chemical Romance," someone suggests, and nearly everyone in that crowd turns to glare at the small kid who said it.

"Low blow," a broad-shouldered guy says, shaking his head.

"Way low," the kid in all black agrees. "That's a sensitive subject."

"Oh, right, they broke up, right?" a dark-haired girl from the R&B group says with a sympathetic tutt.

The rest of the Ice Breakers continue in a similar fashion, mostly consisting of gathering with people who share your same interests. Annabeth ends in the same group as Percy nearly every time, shockingly enough. The only time they had separated was when Percy picked fries over pizza.

Ice Breakers took up the better part of an hour, and Mina announced that they would be calling in a friend to discuss some 'teenage things' with them.

His name is Quintus, because he's the fifth and final kid of his family, apparently. He seems fatherly, but he can't be older than twenty. He explains some safety rules that apply to teens only on the ship, and even gathers a few people to create a humorous scene about sexual harassment and how to _properly_ hold a conversation with someone you've just met. He speaks against PDA, and Percy laughs longer than everyone else when Quintus jokingly says it stands for 'Pears Date Apples.' It's not funny _at all_ —in fact, no one in the room even chuckles until Percy's uproarious laughter.

He leans into Annabeth so he can speak in her ear. "Just imagine. A pear rolling over to an apple tree and just being like, 'Hey, babe, we'd be a great _pear_.'" And just like that, Annabeth can't stop laughing either.

After the safety rant is over with, Mina and Sydney call for a ten minute break for snacks and drinks.

Annabeth stays on the couch while most of the mass talk loudly on their way out. She can already see friendships forming.

"Well, we're off," Percy announces, standing up and pulling Annabeth with him. "You plan on coming back?"

"Not particularly," Annabeth admits with a shrug.

Percy sighs, relieved. "Thank God. Now, I've heard that they're playing _The Croods_ in Buena Vista Theater. Care to join?"

;;

The Croods is the best animated movie Annabeth has seen in a while, and Percy is completely enraptured. He leans forward in his seat when things get intense and jumps back when he's shocked. He sings along to Imagine Dragons when their song plays, and it takes Annabeth a while before she realizes it, but she's happy. Genuinely happy, and not in a heavy, crushing way—just. Happy.

Percy keeps sparing her wide-eyed glances at the climax of the movie, and she almost feels like laughing at how into it he is. He claps louder than any other kid in the theater when the movie is over. “That was amazing,” he announces, throwing the remains of their popcorn away. He keeps his drink while Annabeth tosses hers, and then he starts walking. “Do you have to get back?”

“I think I’m fine.” Annabeth glances around, just to see if her Dad is anywhere around. The chances are slim to none, but it’s never hurt to look.

Percy digs his hands into his pockets, pulling out a touchscreen iPod. It’s scratched from wear and tear; it’s definitely seen better days, taking into account the crack that crosses the expanse of the screen, but he just pushes it back into his pocket and extracts a map of the cruise ship. “So, I was walking around earlier today, and there’s this place called the Oceaneer Lab.”

“Right… And?”

“They made a replica of Andy’s room. Toy Story. And I _need_ to see it.” Annabeth feels her chest tighten the smallest bit in excitement; she had absolutely _adored_ the movie as a kid. He drags his hand across the shiny paper, tapping a certain location twice, and taking a sharp left. “You down?”

“Of course,” Annabeth answers as she counts the numerous Mickey Mouses in the patterns on the wall. “Let’s see Andy’s room.”

When they enter the Oceaneer Lab, a few bored, young workers entice them to play an interactive game that involves stomping on pressure pads. Annabeth’s laughing so hard that her face is red by the end of it, and Percy smiles at her before he bounces off to the first room he sees, which turns out to have a giant Mike Wazowski in it.

“Look!” he shouts, pointing at it, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Look, look, look, _Annabeth look at it right now_.”

“I see it,” Annabeth replies, mildly amused. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts up the camera. “Go on, then. Strike a pose.”

Percy kneels down and hugs the blue construction hat that sits atop the green creature’s head, smiling like an idiot. Annabeth takes the picture with a grin on her face. They visit another room that looks like Pixie Hollow, and there’s a bench that’s lined with intricate flowers. Annabeth had never really cared for Tinkerbell’s character, but the room almost feels like it’s dusted with magic; it leaves her with eyes that are open wide so she can take in every detail. She feels like a kid next to the tall and false indoor tree, but it’s in a good way.

“Take a picture with me,” Percy orders, pointing to the bench. “Please.” Annabeth nods, and Percy manages to get the attention of one of the girls who had played the game with them. She’s in a pressed blue polo and her nametag reads ‘Yuuki’; she’s soft-spoken and small. “Would you take a picture of us, please?”

“Of course!” she says with a blinding smile. Annabeth wonders if she’d made up the whole ‘glazed-over smile’ theory, because it’s all starting to look much more genuine. She wonders if it was her who had the glazed-over smile all along. Percy’s arm falls over her shoulder when the seat themselves on the bench, and Annabeth doesn’t smile hugely, but her small grin is genuine.

“To Andy’s room!” Percy announces, thanking Yuuki with a nod. Percy begs Annabeth to take a million pictures of him by every thing in Andy’s room— _literally everything, too_ —and makes her pinky swear to send them to him once they can properly get service again. He snaps an image of her leaning up against Hamm, which was by far her favorite character of the movie.

Percy is the epitome of an overgrown child as he continues to walk from room to room, taking in every detail. He’s practically luminescent when they leave the lab, flicking through the pictures on Annabeth's phone.

"It's almost midnight," she says.

"Better get you back before you turn into a pumpkin then," he responds with an exaggerated wink. His smile softens after they both finish laughing, and he hands over her phone. "I had a lot of fun today. I thank you for gracing me with your presence, Cinderella."

"Cinderella," Annabeth repeats, intending to sound irritated but ultimately sounding more amused. Damn.

"Blonde princess curls. Prince Charming," he says, pointing to himself with a goofy grin. "I just realized that's where the similarities end. I'm very much a failure."

Annabeth grins, shaking her head. "Sleep on it. You'll figure out which princess I am eventually, I'm sure."

Percy nods, a mockingly serious expression on his face. "Ma'am yes ma'am."

Annabeth rolls her eyes, but the smile that hasn't left her face all night continues to tug at her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"One can only hope," is all Percy says before he turns away from her and jogs off to the elevators. Annabeth opts for the stairs because her room is just one floor up—4018.

Her dad is sitting up in bed when she pulls open the door, and she expects a reprimand for arriving past midnight. Instead, he smiles and gestures to the television. "Did you know," he says as he scrolls, "that they have every Disney movie ever on demand? For _free_?"

"You're kidding," Annabeth deadpans, her jaw falling a little. "No _way_."

"Oh—look right here. _Atlantis: The Lost Empire_."

Annabeth grins and takes a seat at the end of his bed, cheering quietly at the opening credits. Eventually, they migrate over to the cozy couch, which has an elephant made out of hand towels sitting on it. Her dad seems delighted as he takes a picture of it. "How was your time at the teen club?"

"Teen-ish," Annabeth says with a shrug. "Fun, I guess. Not really my style."

Her father nods in understanding. "I figured it wouldn't be."

There's an unspoken question hanging in the air, but she answers it before her dad can ask. "We left after an hour and went to the movies."

" _We_?" her father muses with a smile. "Oh, interesting. The _movies_."

Annabeth laughs at her dad, shaking her head. "Trust me, he was too into _The Croods_ to even consider putting the moves on."

"I like him," he decides, crossing an ankle over his knee.

She smiles—as if she's stopped—and pats her dad's shoulder. "Hey, you know, thanks. For bringing us. I really am having a good time."

"You weren't at first," he says, sighing. "Annabeth, do you know the reason I picked this cruise?"

She frowns. "Well, yes." It's half-midnight, and she feels herself sinking into the couch bit by bit, enjoying the coziness. "We needed bonding time."

"We could have done that on a Carnival cruise. Or any cruise, for that matter." Her father pauses the movie, and his eyes are twinkling when he looks at her. "I know how... _absent_ I've been lately,  and I just want to tell you that it's not my first choice. I've put in a request to move departments at the company—"

"Dad—"

"—And it won't involve me working from home. I'll go to an office every day from 9 to 5, then I'll come home. A free man. Without a million calls to make, even during dinner."

Annabeth's eyes sting a little. "You didn't have to do that."

"Maybe," her dad says, and he places a hand on her shoulder. "But I wanted to."

She nods, not entirely trusting her voice. She's not crying, and she hasn't in a while, but her throat feels thick with emotion. He squeezes her shoulder and seems to understand.

"I'm sorry," he says, and it's the first time she's heard him say it in years.

She waits a few minutes before she speaks. "Why did you choose this cruise?"

"Disney's _Dream_ ," he says fondly, and he takes his hand from her shoulder to interlace his hands over his ankle. "Annabeth, you're only sixteen and you've already planned out your life for the next ten years, down to each and every month. I chose it because you need to be a kid, for once."

And for the first time in a while, Annabeth understands.

;;

"We had a heart-to-heart last night," Annabeth admits, as soon as her father stands to refill his coffee.

"That's great!" Sally and Percy exclaim at once, Percy's glass of milk halfway to his mouth. "Jinx, you owe me twenty dollars," he says to his mom.

She scoffs. "Like hell I do," Sally says primly, smoothing her napkin over her lap. Annabeth grins hugely as her father rejoins them.

It's not that Annabeth had been searching for Percy as she reached for a box of Cocoa Puffs, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but she found him. He had snatched the box out of her hand and poured his own bowl before handing it over. "We're sitting over there," he announced, voice sleep-rough, but genuine.

So Annabeth had followed a barely conscious Percy over to the table he had chosen for his mother and himself, waiting until her dad walked by with a plate full of pancakes searching for her.

She's not sure why breakfast already feels like a ritual as she steals one of Percy's sugar packets and takes one of her father's excess half-and-halfs. Their parents think they're crazy for choosing cereal when they could have almost anything for breakfast—the buffet goes all the way from eggs and bacon to what they call 'breakfast steaks' (it's just a normal steak, though, so Annabeth doesn't see the point). Percy shrugs and spoons more of the chocolate cereal into his mouth, and Annabeth nods her head towards him as if to say 'same here, kid.'

After breakfast, Sally suggests some time well spent by the pools on the deck soaking up the sun, and Percy agrees awfully quickly. "Don't hurt yourself, there," Annabeth says mildly as they approach the elevators.

"Interesting fact: I am a swimmer," he discloses.

" _Captain_ of the swim team," Sally brags, lifting her chin. Percy ducks his head and shrugs, but Annabeth sees in the set of his shoulders how prideful he is.

"The first eleventh grade captain in thirty years," he adds, a little smug.

"What, do you want a medal or something?" Annabeth questions sarcastically, but she really should have foreseen what happened next.

"I have 4 gold and 3 silver," Percy says seriously. "2 trophies for first place and one for third—" The elevator dings, announcing its arrival, and he cuts himself off. "Didn't mean to brag."

"If you got it, flaunt it," is Annabeth's reply, and when Percy flips his hair with a haughty look, she doesn't stop smiling all the way up the stairs.

;;

Annabeth brings the book she's in the middle of—a lesser-known gem by Robyn Schneider titled " _The Beginning of Everything_ "—and wears an old t-shirt of her father's over her swimsuit. She pushes her sunglasses over her eyes as she steps out into the sun, sinking into the nearest empty chair and flipping to the latest page in her book. Annabeth tries not to think about the way she can see a sliver of the ocean, because it itches at her mind, almost teasing her. _You don't know anything about me_ , it seems to say, and Annabeth scowls at her book.

"You brought a book," is how Percy greets her, choosing to sit on the edge of her chair due to the lack of empty chairs around her.

"I did." Annabeth turns the page and lines her finger up with the first word so that she doesn't lose her place.

"Don't be boring."

"Apparently, I am, seeing as you dislike my favorite Disney movie _and_ the fact that I read."

Percy laughs a little, pulling his shirt over his head. Annabeth smiles a little when his hair is left in disarray. "I was lying. I love Atlantis."

Annabeth's jaw drops and she uses her book to slap his shoulder. "You little f—"

"I am a _minor_!" Percy shouts, mock-scandalized. He glances away, a little shy. "I lied and said I hated it so I could be memorable. People who agree fade, people who challenge don't."

She blinks, cocking her head to the side. "Why didn't you want to 'fade' or whatever?"

Percy shrugs. "I don't know. You seemed different."

"Different," Annabeth repeats. She glances down at her book and realizes that she's lost her page.

"Like... I can't explain it," Percy decides with a sigh. "I mean, I want to study psychology, right?" Annabeth would have never pinned that on him, but she raises her eyebrows as silent prompting for him to go on. "So, I watch people, obviously, and I do this thing where I test myself." He pauses, twisting his hands a little, and looks at her a little nervously. "I actually really enjoy your company and I'm terrified that I'm about to scare you off."

"Percy," Annabeth says seriously, "if your obsession with Mike Wazowski didn't scare me off, I don't think anything will."

Percy snorts before he lets out a bark of laughter, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, deary me, you've seen the worst side I've got."

They both laugh again until Annabeth pushes his shoulder. He pushes her back, sighs, and rolls his shoulders. Discreetly, he points at a woman in a red swimsuit reading what looks like a Nicholas Sparks novel. "Her," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Mid-thirties. Married once, judging by the tan line on her ring finger." He cocks his head to side, his eyes looking dismal for a quick moment. "She has tired eyes. They're sad, but she's strong. She left him. Wait—she left _her_."

Annabeth sputters for a second. "How in the world—?"

Percy shrugs. "It's a vibe. She's also got the equal sign tattoo on her shoulder—love is equal, and all that. She's greying early, too, which could be hereditary, but I wouldn't put my money on it. She's relaxed, right now. She’s been waiting for this break for a while, I'd say." He narrows his eyes. "Nicholas Sparks," he says, snapping his fingers. "Easy. She's reading for the fairly tale she never got."

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "That's an awful lot of assumptions."

Percy smiles wanly. "Well, let's go check my answers." He stands and heads for the woman peacefully reading.

Annabeth pulls him back by his wrist. "You can't just walk up and ask people things like that!"

He gives her another grin, nodding his head towards the woman. "Come on, let's go. Trust me."

Annabeth keeps his wrist in a vice grip, shaking her head. "No way."

"Excuse me! Miss!" Percy shouts across the pool. Several women and one man look over to him, and Annabeth flushes, releasing his wrist. He hums happily and walks on, approaching the woman. Annabeth scurries after him hesitantly. "Excuse me," Percy says softly, sitting in the lounge chair next to the woman. She holds a finger up in a 'no-nonsense' manner and continues to read.

A few minutes later, she turns to him. "How can I help you?"

"I just have a few questions for a school project, and I'm supposed to choose random people for it. Any chance you'd be up for it?" She hesitates and squints at him, and he smiles. "Please."

That seems to sell her. She relents and nods, albeit slowly. "Fine. Go ahead."

He pulls his iPod out of his pocket and pulls up a note. Annabeth gingerly sits by his side, offering the woman a smile. "Right. First question: which age group are you in?" He sends her a charming little grin. "No older than twenty-five, I'm sure."

She smiles back, but waves her hand. "No siree, I'm thirty-six."

He types her answer, discreetly nudging Annabeth with his elbow. "Married, single, widowed...?"

"Single," she answers. "I was married, not too long ago, but we've gotten a divorce."

Percy looks sympathetic. "I'm sorry about that, miss. Seems everything doesn't work out for every man paired with a pretty woman like you."

She shakes her head, her cheeks going a light rose color. "Oh, I was married to a woman."

Percy's eyes brighten, then he looks at her shoulder. "I like your tattoo," he says, in such a genuine voice that even Annabeth wouldn't have a clue that there's not a single school project involved.

"I regret it now," she sighs out. "Got it for the damned bitch—oh, no, excuse my mouth!"

"No worries," Percy says with a chuckle. "I take it things didn't end well, then?"

The woman shakes her head sagely. "Nope. I walked out after a particularly bad argument. Couldn't handle it any longer."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he answers, his brow pinching.

"Nicholas Sparks," Annabeth interjects, figuring she could probably encroach on this subject easier than Percy. "I love him. He writes what I like to call realistic fairy tales."

"Exactly," the woman exclaims, holding up her copy of "The Lucky One." "I haven't been able to put this one down—it pulls me in."

"That's a great one," Annabeth lies, not having the slightest clue about the content. "He really knows how to take you away from the troubles of life and get you involved with his characters."

"That's probably what I like most about it." She smiles at Annabeth. "Any other questions?"

Percy nods, asking two more random questions and typing the answers diligently. "Thanks for this," he says, gesturing to his iPod. "You're saving my grade in psych."

"Oh, it's not a problem." She shifts a bit, propping her book up in her arms.

"I hope you enjoy the rest of your cruise," he tells her.

"I better," she answers. "Been waiting for this for months."

;;

They talk about it over ice cream.

"So, what? You're psychic?"

"It's _observation_ , Annabeth, you have to learn to see the person—through their actions, through their body language, through their appearance."

"I still don't understand how this all relates back to you talking to me in the lobby," Annabeth says, sighing loudly.

"I read you," he admits. "I wanted to know if I was right."

"And what did you think about me?"

He pauses, then takes a bite of his ice cream cone. "Very pretty. Understated, though. Low-key. Doesn't travel much; either from Florida or California, judging by your tan, but for the record I was leaning more towards Cali. However, even if you don't travel every so often, you've seen the things most important to you. The Parthenon," he lists, rubbing a spot of chocolate ice cream off his lip. "That's important in architectural history, if I'm not mistaken. You've probably seen the Washington Monument, too, maybe."

Annabeth gulps, nibbling at her strawberry ice cream.

"Wants a serious job, I think. Something to do with building, taking into account your interests. Or maybe architecture is just a hobby, I don't know."

"You seemed much more sure when you analyzed the woman," Annabeth mentions, not sure what else to say.

"My view is all messed up," Percy admits. "Getting to know you messed up my game. I should have read you more before I approached you."

"So, getting to know people keeps you from understanding them? That's so backwards."

Percy shakes his head. "It's not like that." He purses his lips, then snaps his fingers in realization. "Think of an apple."

"An apple," Annabeth repeats. "All right."

"Now, you know how an apple _should_ look, right? Red, maybe a bit of orange or yellow. Shapely, no bruises or holes, et cetera." Annabeth nods. "So, if you looked at other apples, and compared it to the apple _you_ know, you would catch the differences. Bruises probably say rough handling, or it was dropped a few times. Holes mean a worm or two has chomped it's way through. You aren't trying to read the apple's mind, you're just taking the evidence it gives you. It's the same way with people."

"Oh....kay..."

"But think about this: if you looked at that bruised apple, and saw it, then you bit into it, and looked at it again... wouldn't your view change?"

Annabeth frowns. "I guess so, but—"

"All right, then." He shrugs, finishing off his chocolate cone. "You've answered your own question."

;;

Annabeth reads as Percy swims for a while, but eventually he convinces her to join him. And Annabeth's alright because she can see the bottom—she knows this water and how deep it is, can brush her toes against the floor if she wants.

Percy looks stupid with his hair stuck to his face, and Annabeth tells him so. He narrows his eyes at her. "Well we can't _all_ have the hair of a princess."

So, Annabeth sticks her tongue out in a childish manner and splashes Percy with a wave of water smelling of chlorine and something she now recognizes as Percy.

;;

That night, Annabeth finds Percy in the dinner hall. He gives her dirty looks every time they catch eyes during the meal, and Annabeth snorts into her risotto.

"You're happy," her dad mentions.

"I am," she agrees. "Hey, so me and Percy were talking about heading down to the deck tonight and watch whatever movies they show on that screen. You want to come?"

Her dad smiles softly, but shakes his head. "I'm scoping out that art gallery they have."

"Ooh, tell me how it is!" Annabeth enthuses. "I swear they have everything on the ship."

"Could live here," her dad agrees. "For a very high price."

"Dad," Annabeth asks, frowning into her tea, "what's your favorite Disney movie?"

He raises both of his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. "Easy. _Alice in Wonderland_.”

“Why?”

Her father spears some asparagus and chews slowly before he speaks. “She finds happiness in madness.”

Annabeth glances over his shoulder and meets Percy’s eyes, and instead of making a face, he waves with a smile. She returns the gesture, then frowns at her dad. “I don’t really see how that appeals to you,” she admits apologetically.

“Routines are no fun,” he continues, waving his fork animatedly. They’re eating in a restaurant called _The Royal Palace_ , and the waiters are dressed in the same jacket Beast wore with Beauty in the Disney classic. “Sometimes madness can provide even more clarity than sanity. In college, my professor said that there was a theory that people with mental illnesses were only mental because they truly saw the world, rather than the images we create in our minds. It’s actually a theory that many stand behind, and statistics show that—”

“ _Dad_ ,” Annabeth interrupts with a small laugh. “Everything you’re saying is going right over my head. You’re going into study mode.”

“Ah, right,” he agrees, reaching up to loosen his tie. “We can’t have that on a cruise, now can we?” Annabeth nods with a small smile, picking at the fancy table cloth. “I can’t wait to get back home.”

“Oh,” Annabeth says, her heart sinking slightly. “Oh, um. Why?”

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, a bad habit that he’s obviously picked up from his own daughter. “Not like that. I can’t wait to get home and straighten all of the job business out. We could be having talks like this every night.”

Annabeth can’t keep herself from glancing at Percy again. He raises an eyebrow at her and mouths ‘everything alright?’

Annabeth smiles back and turns back to her dad. “I’d really like that.”

;;

“ _...And now, the premiere of the Disney channel original ‘Teen Beach Movie’!”_

“I’ve never heard of this,” Annabeth comments, tucking her feet up into her seat.

“Me either,” Percy admits. “Ross Lynch is in it.”

“Who?”

Percy’s jaw drops, and he punches Annabeth’s shoulder. “ _Austin & Ally_’s Ross Lynch?” She blinks and shrugs, rubbing her injured arm. “Are you even a Disney fan? Who let you on this cruise? They should really make people take trivia quizzes before they let uncultured people on cruises.”

“‘Uncultured’,” Annabeth quotes, laughing to herself. “You’re so dramatic. I don’t know about _one_ actor.”

“He’s a brilliant actor!” Percy says defensively. “Look, you wait here, I’m going to go get a drink. We’re watching this movie.” Annabeth nods vehemently, rolling her eyes as soon as his back turns. _Idiot_.

She glances around her, seeing other kids and a few adults in the lounge chairs surrounding the pool. It’s off limits now, but the huge screen is stealing all of the attention, anyways. Annabeth shifts in her seat, attempting to find a comfortable position to settle into for an hour or two.

Percy returns with his drink just as the movie starts, offering it to Annabeth before drinking approximately half of it. “I love Sprite. I can’t describe my love for it. I would marry Sprite. Sprite is my g—”

“Shut up!” Annabeth hisses, but she’s laughing anyways. He’s so ridiculous in a heart-warming manner. “It’s starting.”

He raises his hands in defense, leaning back in his seat and setting his eyes on the screen. He seems to be enjoying himself no less than five minutes in, but Annabeth thinks that’s just Percy. It doesn’t take much to amuse him, nor all that much to make him happy.

The movie is almost as ridiculous as Percy, but Annabeth loves it. About a half-hour in, she gets a crick in her neck that causes her to shift into an even more uncomfortable position. Percy looks at her, reaching up and rubbing small circles into her upper back, making her sigh in relief. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I think I was just sitting weird.”

“Well, don’t do that, you idiot,” Percy teases, but his eyes are sincere. Annabeth nods silently and rolls her shoulders, moving until she finally feels relaxed and—well, he head falls just above his shoulder.

He tugs at her ear until she’s resting on him, snickering when she slaps his arm and squeaks out an ‘ouch!’ “Comfortable?” he asks, after a second.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“It’s whatever,” Percy tells her, staring up at the screen once more.

McKenzie has just been invited to the sleepover with Lela and the rest of the biker girls when rain starts falling in gentle sprinkles. Annabeth had even convinced herself that it was simply the ocean spray before a middle-aged man in white politely asked the movie-watchers to clear the deck.

Percy is downright peeved for the next five minutes, at least until Annabeth suggests visiting the 24-hour ice cream shop. He even manages to both frown and smile throughout the entirety of their ice cream run, and she has to ask, really. "So... You were pretty into that movie I guess."

Percy shrugs, catching a drop of the milky chocolate that falls on his thumb. "Yeah, I guess. More like I can't stand leaving things unfinished. I'm a very 'all or nothing' type guy."

"It's just a movie," Annabeth says, intending to be soothing but coming out as rather annoyed.

Percy quirks an eyebrow at her. "I'm aware. But I like endings more than the wondering. Did she go back to Brady? Did she move? Do they even get back home? I'll never know now."

Annabeth thinks for a few moments, trying to muster up a quick witted remark. She comes up empty, and instead tells him, "You're weird."

Percy smiles, and it's different— _softer_ —when compared to his typical grins that transform his face. "Thanks," he tells her, and Annabeth feels something like admiration thrumming beneath her skin.

;;

Their plans for the night are cut short thanks to the untimely rain, but this just gives Percy the encouragement to find them a new adventure.

They end up near the same Oceaneer Lab, sharing a window seat. Percy's scrolling through his music library, occasionally turning his iPod towards her and asking, "You know them?"

Annabeth likes the window seat; it's a circle in the wall that gives them a clear view of the ocean, though it's too dark to see much at all. She's glad in some ways; Percy's so fond of the water, she's almost sure she would offend him with her contempt for it.

" _The Script_?" Percy questions, leaning against her side to show her the album cover.

"Some," Annabeth says with a shrug. It's hard to shrug when Percy's giving all his weight to her shoulder, though, so she doesn't do any more than jostle him.

"A crying shame, that is." He scrolls, humming under his breath. "Hey, what's your favorite band?"

"I don't have one," she admits regretfully. "You're almost making me wish I would have gotten more into music, though."

"Don't you play piano?" Annabeth raises an eyebrow, but narrows her eyes soon after. "You've got the hands for it, is all."

"Are you doing that weird analysis thing?"

Percy seems pleased. "You play piano," he announces smugly.

"I _did_ ," Annabeth corrects. "I stopped two years ago."

"Why?"

"I wanted to get into other things. I haven't decided what yet. Maybe painting? Dancing? I've always wanted to try cross-stitching."

Percy glances up at her, bemused. "I wish I could be like that. You know, jack-of-all-trades type guy. I'm just stuck with this obsession for watching people and a shitty music library."

"It's not shitty," Annabeth says immediately. "I like it."

"You _have_ to. You're my friend."

"That's a lie!" She thinks for a second, glancing at his shirt. "I hate your shirt. It's been getting on my nerves all morning."

Percy raises an eyebrow challengingly. "It's plain green. How could you hate it?"

"I don't like that color," she answers, bringing up a game of Tetris on her phone.

"Well, I don't like _your_ necklace. It's stupid."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. _Weak._ "It's an 'A'. For my name. Nothing to hate."

"It's cliche. Everyone has a letter necklace." Percy shifts so that he's sitting up straight rather than sinking into the seat so far that his head falls right at her shoulder.

"I don't like your shoes."

"You have _writing_ on your shoes, if that's not disgusting I don't know what is," Percy retorts, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Annabeth sits up straight, too. "It's lyrics from _Bastille_ , you literally just said that you liked them!"

"I do," Percy says, "but not when they're on shoes."

"I didn't write them anyways."

"Oh, yeah? Then who did?" His voice takes on an argumentative tone. Annabeth feels herself bristle.

"My... boyfriend."

"You don't have a boyfriend," Percy dismisses, and Annabeth thinks he rolls his eyes, but he's not angled towards her enough to tell.

"I do," Annabeth lies, scowling.

" _No_ , you don't," Percy replies tiredly, combing his hands through his hair. "Your friend wrote that, too, probably a girl, if the handwriting says anything."

"Maybe," Annabeth relents, but the irritation doesn't fade from her face. "How do you know I don't have a boyfriend?"

"Your dad..." He coughs and gives her a short glance. "He told me."

"You _asked_ him?"

Percy shakes his head. "No, he _told_ me."

Annabeth blinks. "Why?"

Percy smiles a little, not taking his eyes off the ground. Annabeth feels like she's experiencing Percy with the volume turned down; his smile is muted as it gets darker outside and his voice falls lower. "I love your shoes," he says quietly, after a few moments. "I think they're unique."

"I really don't like the color green," Annabeth persists, but she finds herself smiling, too. "And your shoes _are_ stupid."

Percy laughs now, but it's soft. Maybe a little fond, if she squints. "Yeah. Yeah, they are. My little brother picked them out for me."

Annabeth nudges into his shoulder. "That's sweet. That you wear them anyways."

Percy shrugs, still looking down at his shoes with one of the worst color schemes Annabeth's ever seen. "He would do the same. You would too, if you knew him. He wraps everyone around his finger."

Annabeth doesn't know what to say, so she stays quiet. Percy doesn't seem to care. "Hey," he says, after a while of listening to the Disney soundtrack playing. It's _Aladdin_ , she thinks.

"Hi," Annabeth answers, swaying slightly. "I only said that I hated your shirt to prove that I didn't have to agree with. You know. Everything."

"I know," Percy says, laughing a little. "I'm glad we got the first argument out of the way, short lived as it was. I knew it wouldn't be long before we clashed."

"Optimistic," Annabeth notes.

"Observant. Our personality types are similar. If we took a Myers-Briggs test, we couldn't be more than a letter off. I'd think you fall back on logic more than I do, though. I’m more of a feeling type guy."

"Are you speaking Yiddish?"

Percy laughs. Annabeth realizes how limited their time is then, and she wishes for a second that she could bottle up the noise and keep it forever.

;;

Percy finds out about her hatred for the ocean the next day, and he understands so easily that it almost makes Annabeth mad.

It happens after breakfast—her dad says that himself and Sally plan on scoping out the merchandise shops for some potential gifts for their children, which leaves Percy and Annabeth to do whatever they want. Percy suggests walking around the cruise ship and enjoying their time until they dock at Nassau, which can’t be more than thirty minutes away.

They sit down in front of the clear glass that serves as a barrier from people on the ship and the daunting sea. Annabeth thinks that if she didn’t hate it so much, she would probably enjoy the view. Instead, she turns so that her back falls against the glass and watches people walk by with the same gleam in their eye.

“Why not face the sea?” Percy asks, without any really curiosity behind it. It sounds more like he feels the need to talk; the need to fill the silence Annabeth is so accustomed to having around her.

“I don’t want to look at it,” Annabeth decides on, despite the multiple answer choices swimming in her mind.

“Weird,” Percy comments. “Why?”

“Feeling a bit sick.”

“You aren’t.”

Annabeth sighs in exasperation. “Let me guess, more psychology stuff? Is that how you can tell whether or not I feel sick?”

“No,” Percy replies, leaning down a little as if he wants to catch her gaze. “I didn’t actually know until you replied so defensively.”

She stares at a small child in the distance, holding on tightly to his mother’s hand. Annabeth wonders briefly why Percy’s little brother wasn’t brought along on the cruise. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he repeats, half-heartedly punching her shoulder. “Come on. Why not face the sea?”

“I don’t like it.”

“You’re on a cruise.”

“Plenty of people who don’t like the sea appreciate cruises,” Annabeth says, glancing over her shoulder at the blue water. It’s becoming more of a light teal as they approach the dock.

“Deflection,” Percy mutters, but he lets the topic go. He sighs and leans his head against the glass, closing his eyes. “I wish we didn’t meet on a cruise.”

“Me, too,” Annabeth says, understanding immediately. Percy smiles, eyes still closed, and messes with his left sleeve. “It scares me.”

“Us being friends?”

“The sea,” she tells him.

He nods and doesn’t say anything else, so she doesn’t either.

;;

This cruise seems to be finding all of Annabeth’s fears and tossing them at her. First was the sea, second was the crowds, and third was the loud, desperate bargaining the salespeople use in Nassau.

The people themselves don’t scare her—Annabeth’s never been intimidated by people in the slightest, but the way they offer up almost anything _just_ to make a sale gives her a small bout of anxiety. She almost feels locked in every time she so much as glances at a t-shirt or a bracelet.

“They’re like leeches,” Annabeth grumbles, after her and her father stumble out of the warehouse full of salespeople. “Except they beg instead of just take.”

“We’re tourists,” her father says, “we’re easy targets. Or so they think.”

“So they think,” she agrees, glancing over her shoulder. “Hey, where did Percy and Sally go?”

“Senor Frogs, I think. They wanted to take that picture everyone takes. ‘Must be this tall to drink’ and all that.” Annabeth nods in understanding, not bothering to protest when her dad latches onto her upper arm and helps her weave through the crowd.

They run into Percy and Sally—nearly figuratively _and_ physically—and decide to check out the other shops. Sally’s delighted with everything possessing a seashell, which is almost _everything_ anyways, and Percy stares at surfboards for minutes on end. Annabeth mostly just picks up random trinkets and sets them back down, scared of breaking them and being forced to pay for it.

Their time at Nassau is time well spent, if Annabeth has any say in it. The group of them are fairly objective shoppers and tourists—they get in and get out, rather than linger and dawdle like most. It’s only been an hour and a half before her father suggests something that makes Percy trip: Atlantis.

“Like, _Atlantis_?” Percy asks with wide eyes. “Atlantis, _Atlantis_?”

“Great, Dad,” Annabeth says with exasperation. “Now we’re gonna break his heart when we say it’s just a fancy hotel.”

Percy deflates almost immediately, but perks up not soon after. “Wait—uh. The one. With the chair.”

“Poseidon’s chair?” her father suggests, nodding. “Yes.”

“Well, then I’m in. Mom?”

“Of course,” she says, batting at him with her rolled up map. He smiles at his mom and wraps his arm around her shoulder, making Annabeth’s heart warm up until it’s practically boiling. Percy is so _good_ that it makes her feel slightly— _worryingly_ —homicidal.

“Right, we’ll need a cab, then,” her father announces, and it’s not thirty minutes before they’ve found themselves a cab.

Except, it’s not a cab—at least not the kind Annabeth’s used to seeing in movies. Percy frowns at it too, showing that it doesn’t exactly live up to his expectations. It’s a dingy van at best. "Get in, then," the driver says, giving a toothy smile. Annabeth counts four teeth.

He father starts to bargain with the man in regards to pricing. "There isn't a set thing?" Annabeth asks Percy quietly. He shrugs in response, patting her shoulder reassuringly.

If Annabeth thought she was scared of the salespeople she'd been faced with earlier, she was sadly mistaken. The driver had her nails biting into Percy's tense arm as they swerved through the traffic. Her seatbelt was broken and the van itself rattled so much that Annabeth was sure it would collapse. "Is this safe?" she hisses out, squeezing Percy's wrist as the driver laughs heartily— _madly_ —and slams on the breaks.

"Probably not," he admits, but there's a wild sort of fascination in his eyes as car horns blare around them, dozens of cars nearly hitting each other as they drive recklessly. "I mean, they don't even technically have a drinking age, who knows what other rules they've dropped?"

"Oh, god," Annabeth breathes, and Percy smiles at her like she's something worth smiling at.

;;

Atlantis is beautiful; it's sleek and as charming as a building can be. Her father acts as some sort of a tour guide, dragging them through the casino and warning everyone not to take pictures, because apparently gambling is the only thing taken seriously in this place.

Annabeth finds herself overwhelmed by, and yet wanting to get lost in, the crowd. Percy pats her hip in a comforting manner when she sees the people standing before what her father claims is Poseidon's chair. "It'll pass quicker than you think," Percy promises, and Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

It takes a long time—she even has to suffer through one round of iSpy and a half-hearted game of twenty questions that ends with her talking about the Hunger Games trilogy. Percy listens diligently, as if he's cataloging every word she utters, and it's a good feeling. To know that her audience isn't shooting off e-mails under the table or only nodding when prompted.

When they finally reach the front of the line, Annabeth is a bit disappointed. The chair isn't near as grand or interesting as she'd thought it would be. Percy tugs at her shirt sleeve like a toddler until she agrees to a picture. He places her arm over her shoulder and they opt for standing before the chair rather than sitting in it. He makes a comment to his mom after, something along the lines of 'show that to _Dad_ ' and it's the most abrasive tone she's ever heard Percy use.

"I'm sorry," he tells her, while her dad is doing a photoshoot of his own by the chair. Annabeth wonders if anyone believes that a god sat there once. She wonders if one has.

"Why?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at Percy's pensive expression.

"I just feel like I'm draining you for all you're worth. But I mean well, you know, I just... I mean, it's a four day cruise. I'm trying to make enough memories to last me a lifetime," he teases, jostling her shoulder, and Annabeth still doesn't understand, but she nods anyways.

;;

She and Percy stay out late that night, eating from the pile of junk food they'd managed to salvage throughout the course of two days. Percy stares at the ocean, though it's getting too dark to see much at all.

"Let's trade secrets," Annabeth suggests, because there's been a faint hint of a frown at the corners of Percy's mouth for the past ten minutes.

Percy lets his head loll to the side, but he agrees easily enough. "You first."

It's then that Annabeth realizes that she doesn't a secret ready. "One time I cheated on a spelling test."

Percy blinks at her before he laughs, so fully that his chest jumps with each breath. "Is that all you've got?"

Annabeth shrugs. "Cheated on a math test once, too. It was the final exam."

"Ooh, you rebel, you," Percy jokes, but his smile has overtaken the frown.

"Your turn."

"No way!" he exclaims, scoffing. "I want a proper secret. The dirty deets."

"You're weird," Annabeth tells him, thinking. She purses her lips, and tries to think of something Percy would like. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm in a coma."

Percy raises both eyebrows, like he's close to laughing, but for some reason he doesn't. "Why?" he asks instead.

She shrugs. "Things are either incredibly good or incredibly bad in my life—or, at least, bad by my definition. I don't get much of a happy medium. I feel like some of the things that happen to me are things that only happen in dreams. Or very, very, _very_ mild nightmares."

Percy nods for her to go on, but she just shakes her head. She can't think of more to say. "Sometimes the lines between dreams and reality are blurred. Maybe you were just in a dream for a while, and you're just now getting to the in between. You know, like that fuzzy point between conscious and unconscious?"

"What if I wake up one day, and everything was a dream? This whole 'me and my dad making up' and 'meeting potential best friend in another life' thing?"

Percy smiles, reaching over and pinching the skin on Annabeth's arm. "Look, I pinched you. You didn’t wake up," he points out. "Not to mention that I'm very much real, no matter how hard that may be to believe."

Annabeth wants to laugh—because Percy _is_ funny and he makes her laugh—but she purses her lips instead. "What's New York like?"

"Bright," Percy says immediately, "but not like—sunlight, which is probably how Cali is. Remember when you got on the ship? When they clapped? And the lights were bright?" She nods, watching him intently. "It's like that. Bright. Makes you feel famous, no matter who you are, but it's also kind of reassuring in the way that it's big enough to get lost in. Does that make sense?"

Annabeth nods again, but she isn't sure how to answer. She wasn't expecting a reply like that. He starts speaking again, bemused. "Are you going to tell your friends about the weird kid you met on a cruise?"

Annabeth half-snorts, half-sighs. "Duh. I'll even have a few pictures to prove it."

Percy hums contently, pressing his head against the cool glass. "Why does it scare you? The ocean, I mean. I thought maybe it was because you couldn't swim, but... You can."

Annabeth wonders if she's even really scared of the ocean, or just what the ocean represents. She shrugs noncommittally. "A lot of reasons."

"Don't be vague."

"Don't ask hard questions," Annabeth retorts, scowling. Percy smiles at the water, still refusing to look at her, and she feels her face soften. No need to put a guard up if no one's watching, anyways. "I don't like the unknown," she says finally, because it's the easiest way to explain. "I don't like _knowing_ that I don't know things. Dad says I've always been like that."

"So, it's not necessarily the ocean?" Percy inquires, tapping his index finger on the glass. "It's more general, then. The ocean is just an example."

He sounds so sure of himself, and Annabeth realizes it's what she's always thought, but never knew how to say. "Exactly."

;;

The next day is a blur of docking at Castaway Cay and soaking up the sunshine. Percy, being a New York native, politely requests that he and Annabeth go back to the boat with a complaint of "it's too hot."

"Baby," Annabeth teases, but she flips her sunglasses down and stands anyways. Percy smiles gratefully.

Their parents had already came and went from the beachy area most were crowded at. Her father had muttered something about a chilly movie theatre calling his name. Sally had said that she wanted to shop around in the on-cruise stores.

As they start the walk back, Annabeth shifts her bag further up her shoulder. "So... Why didn't your brother come on the cruise?"

"Oh, he's with Dad for the weekend," Percy answers easily, and it shouldn't be a big deal. Except, it's the first time he's uttered a word about his father around her.

"Divorced?" Annabeth asks softly, because she knows that. She knows how divorce is; she's lived through one after all.

Percy hums a little, smiling at the water. "Never married."

And she's not one to judge, since she hardly knows the circumstances, but she had never pegged Sally for the type to raise a child without something permanent like marriage. "Oh."

Percy swings his shoulder into her's and laughs. "I know what you're thinking. My mom was well of age and so was he—they just as easily could have been married. They just... didn't, I guess. Good thing, too, since it all kind of..." He mimes something blowing up, and Annabeth can't understand why he seems so happy about it. "They were in love, though. Mom used to tell me all the time. What about your mom, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Her and my father developed separate interests that sent them to different corners of the world. Mom's part of a humanitarian organization that travels to third world countries. They got divorced seven years ago."

"That sounded scarily textbook-like," Percy laughs, but he shrugs, a silent 'I'm sorry about your luck.'

"She was never a huge part of my life, I guess, so I'm a bit detached in that sense. Why aren't you upset about your parents not being 'together'?" she questions, because it's always easier when Percy answers the questions.

He smiles softly, but his teeth shine through after a few seconds. "It's hard to be sad about something that's as amazing as their story. It was just a wrong-time-wrong-place scenario, really, but they were perfect for each other. They probably still are, even. I have this hope that they'll get married at, like, sixty, and just stay together until they die."

"That's sweet," Annabeth tells him.

"Like ice cream," he agrees, not one-fourth as smooth as he thinks he is.

"Right, so first stop would be our Ol' Faithful 24-hour Ice Cream Parlor..."

Percy smiles at her, and it almost outshines the sun. He radiates positive energy in a way Annabeth always considered impossible. "Yeah," he says, "that'd be cool."

So they do.

;;

When Annabeth wakes up the next morning, she's thoroughly exhausted from a movie marathon with Percy that lasted until two in the morning. After the main deck had shut off it's screens, they'd stumbled up to Annabeth's room and stretched out on the couch, laughing at all the references they hadn't understood as kids. Her father was supposedly reading in his own bed, but Annabeth hadn't missed the way he watched the screen along with them.

The thing about Disney cruises is that they bring out the kid in everyone, Annabeth thinks. There's so much childlike innocence surrounding you on the ship that you can't help but conform.

When Annabeth wakes up the next morning, she realizes that it's their last day on the cruise.

"Wake up! I've brought us breakfast," her father announces, dropping a tray of food before her. "We have an hour and thirty minutes to make our way down."

Annabeth reaches out for a fork blindly, and eventually finds one through trial and error. Or maybe her father slips it into her hand. She's tired. "An hour and thirty minutes?" she repeats, and for some reason her pancakes are a lot harder to swallow this morning.

"Yes, yes, now do hurry and eat! You have to pack still, if I'm not mistaken."

"You aren't," she tells him, wincing at the tea her father had set down for her. "Too much sugar."

"You look like you need it," he comments, stuffing a shirt into his bag, half of it still falling out when he zips up his duffel.

"Late night," she mutters back, taking another diabetes-inducing sip of tea and eating quickly.

She manages to finish packing in under twenty minutes, and, having finished eating in ten, she's left with an hour. "I'm going to—"

"Yeah, I know," her father says fondly, and his eyes sparkle like he knows something she doesn't. Annabeth narrows her eyes, but she's on a time limit. She walks out the door without further comment.

Pressing the 'up' button on the elevator several times, Annabeth wonders how she's supposed to say goodbye. She had gotten on the cruise with such low expectations that meeting Percy feels like the best thing that's happened all year. It probably is.

"Hey! I was looking for you!"

And, of course. Of course he would already be jogging down the stairs, too rushed to wait for an elevator. "Hi," she answers, hesitating for a moment before she hugs him.

It almost seems weird that they haven't hugged, taking it all into consideration, but now she's somewhat glad they didn't. It feels more special now. "Hey," Percy says again, and Annabeth can hear the smile in his voice as he hugs her back. "Early, isn't it?"

"For getting to bed around 2:30 in the morning?" Annabeth says incredulously. "Yeah, just a bit."

Percy squeezes her before pulling back. "Did your dad tell you?"

"Tell me what?" she asks suspiciously. "You didn't do something weird like ask for my hand in mar—"

Percy cuts her off with a loud laugh. "No, no, not quite yet."

It's teasing, she knows, but she smiles at that. "What, then?"

"Well—and trust me on this, I'm a Disney cruise veteran—on the last day, they always offer a discount on next year's cruise, if you’re willing to go ahead and buy tickets."

It takes her a second to realize what he said. "They didn't."

"They did," Percy announces with a blinding grin. "This time next year we'll be sailing the seas together once more." He sighs theatrically, so Annabeth punches him. Obviously. "Also, I was serious about wanting those pictures."

The next twenty minutes are a blur of exchanging numbers and Percy urging her to add him on Facebook and any other social networking platform. "I just don't want to lose touch," he says, after, and Annabeth thinks _never_.

They grab one last ice cream together, Annabeth laughing as Percy's melts to fast for him to eat. They walk around the deck one last time, Annabeth smiling as Percy waves at everyone who walks by. They head back to Annabeth’s room, and Annabeth isn’t sure if she’s grinning or frowning or crying or—

“See you next year?”

“Right,” Annabeth says. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Don’t get any prettier while you’re away,” Percy tells her, and she knows he’s teasing, but she still blushes. “I’ll probably have a heart attack the next time I see you.”

“Yeah, okay.” She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. “You need to go.”

“You need to go,” he shoots back, reflexively, but he takes a step back. “Don’t forget to send me the pictures.”

“You’ve only reminded me a million times.”

Percy stops backing away and smiles at his feet for a second. “I’m glad I met you.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too, now go away before we start crying or something,” Annabeth says crassly, but her eyes sting in betrayal. She bites her tongue and inwardly shakes herself.

“I’ll see you,” he says, meeting her eyes with a gentle smile before her turns and jogs off.

Annabeth realizes she didn’t even properly say goodbye.

;;

“I’m ready to be home,” her father announces as they pack their bags into their car.

Annabeth spares a glance up to the cruise ship,  then casts her eyes around the parking lot. She wonders if Percy’s already made it off.

“We’ll grab something to eat before we head to the airport,” he continues, slamming the trunk shut. “Then we’ll be on our flight back to Cali.”

“Sounds great,” Annabeth says, distracted. She thinks she sees a black head of hair, but it ends up being a woman.

“That was fun.” Her father pulls his door open and starts up the car, gesturing for Annabeth to climb in the passenger seat. She goes around the car and does. “I think the cruise did us a lot of good.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth says, sparing him a small smile. She continues looking out the window.

She thinks she hears her father chuckle, but all she can think is _next year_ as her phone vibrates with a million incoming texts she had missed while away.

Annabeth answers them all with a grin, laughing at her best friend’s dramatic declaration of ‘ _I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT YOU THIS IS AWFUL COME BACK HOME_ ’ and the ‘ _did you have fun?_ ’ type questions from nearly everyone in her phone. There’s even one ‘ _did you do the summer reading? it’s dumb_ ’.

Then a message comes in, just as she’s moving her index finger to lock her phone, and all it says is, “ _next year._ ”

Annabeth replies and says, “ _me too_.”

;;;

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> my fanfic tumblr is maydayparade8123 and i hope this didn't suck too bad happy holidays folks

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [passing ships](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993278) by [piperreynas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piperreynas/pseuds/piperreynas)




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